


Kinktober 2020 -- Its All Star Wars

by clipper782



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Father/Son Incest, Femdom, Gentle Domming, Incest, Kinktober, M/M, Marriage, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Parent/Child Incest, Praise Kink, Sith Master & Apprentice Relationship(s), Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26763685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clipper782/pseuds/clipper782
Summary: A series of not very connected and not very safe for work short... pieces.As much as I can get done anyway. Not based on any prompt list in particular, but a bit mix and match.More information on individual chapters.
Relationships: Ahsoka Tano/Sabine Wren, Anakin Skywalker/Luke Skywalker, Hego Damask | Darth Plagueis/Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, Luke Skywalker/Darth Vader, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41





	1. Ahsoka/Sabine; Cuntworship, Praise Kink

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't sure if I should just put what's in the story for now in the tags and update it as it goes along, but I didn't want anybody to feel blindsided by things that happen later, even though the stories are for the most part not connected. Oh well.
> 
> October 1: Ahsoka/Sabine; Cuntworship, Praise Kink

“Ah... that's good.” She ran her fingers affectionately through her partner's hair, today a soft purple, as Sabine's mouth finally found its place on her cunt. Usually she'd dive right in, bury herself in between her thighs, but she seemed more deliberate today. One finger gently stroked along the curve of her outer labia, while a thumb gently spread them apart, allowing Sabine to lick a long stripe up her slit, stopping just short of her clit.

“Are you trying to tease me, Sabine?” Sabine, generally, did not tease. She hungered, she begged, she took, she even served, but teased? That was new.

There was no answer from the younger woman but a soft hum against her, still not quite touching where she needed it to be... Her hand tightened almost imperceptibly in Sabine's short hair, but she managed to resist the urge to grind into her, to make her _take_ it like she _should_... But she was older, more mature. She couldn't be seen to give into teasing.

Fortunately, Sabine was not the most patient, and Ahsoka already knew how to push those buttons. Rather than grinding up into Sabine's quite pliant mouth, fucking into her face, and riding her lips and tongue to take her pleasure (which she knew would be pleasing to the girl) she ever so gently, and not too hastily, moved her thighs up Sabine's back to lock firmly around her head. Not quite pulling her into her cunt but putting that pressure of her soft, orange thighs right where they needed to be.

Sabine couldn't help but to bite back a moan, which was somewhat difficult, given her situation of being fully buried in Ahsoka's thighs. Ahsoka could make out an elongated “Mmm...” and a muffled word that may have been her name.

She had her. She clenched her legs together and Sabine wasted no more time. If she had been in a different frame of mind, Ahsoka may have wondered how Sabine managed to breathe so easily, with both her nose and mouth disappeared between her soft, puffy labia, focusing on working her clit, diving as deep into her folds as they possibly could it seemed... Fully immersed in her, knowing she was all the younger woman could tatse, smell, _feel_ on her and around her... Ahsoka let out something between a contented sigh and a moan.

“You're doing so good, Sabine. Always so good.” If there was anything Sabine liked better than servicing her cunt it was being told what a good girl she was while doing it. “Such a good girl...”

Sabine let out another moan at the praise, grinding impossibly closer, moving impossibly faster, Ahsoka's thighs clenching impossibly tighter around her head, heels digging into her back. Ahsoka was close, and she'd be willing to bet Sabine was too. Was she touching herself? She couldn't see. Maybe she'd need to try a different position next time. Maybe she'd even reward Sabine with some touches of her own.

She froze when the orgasm overtook her, arching her back trying to take Sabine deeper, closer, more, she could take _more_ and more was what Sabine gave, not stopping her ministrations while Ahsoka rode out whatever pleasure she could get.

“Such a good girl.” Sabine's entire lower face glistened in her juices. Ahsoka moved to wipe it off but didn't get very far before Sabine pushed in for a kiss.

“I think you should be able to taste yourself,” she said after, “Its a pleasure I'd hate to see you miss out on.”

“ _I_ think I'd rather taste my cute girlfriend than myself,” Ahsoka responded, only halfway joking. Sabine was... Very much into the service side of things, it seemed. She'd probably prefer something a little more... Submissive than being fully on the receiving end of that pleasure.

As expected, Sabine shrugged it off with a wry smile, “Maybe next time.”

Maybe.


	2. Palpatine/Damask; Reluctant submission, Loss of Virginity, Xeno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hego Damask decides to visit Sheev Palpatine on his retreat on Chandrila, Sheev decides its time to spend some quality time with him. Ostensibly right after the conversation where Hego's dropping hints Sheev should murder his family. Which must be irresistibly hot to someone like Sheev.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Xeno is pretty slight, the D/s is pretty slight... There's a bit about virginity and age gap too... Just trust me its some sort of kink, it must be, its Kinktober.

“Are you sure its alright for you to be away for so long?” How easy it was for him to sound like he cared. Maybe he did. Though to what sort of end...

“It will be fine,” Palpatine replied, somewhat flippantly, as if this was really nothing new to him. He certainly did not want to come off as an inexperienced child to the only person he could seemingly trust to take him seriously. “The purpose of this retreat is to build important, lasting relationships, and who better to build such a relationship with than the influential Magister of Damask Holdings?”

“Are you trying to flatter me?”

“Is it working?” He leaned towards the older man as best as he could while still keeping pace walking alongside him.

“No more than usual.” The Magister responded, somewhat cryptically. Though he didn't seem to show any emotion, Palpatine could tell he was pleased. 

“Would you like to put your hand on mine as we walk?” Damask asked with a slight movement of his head. “That is something humans do with their companions, yes?”

He was already following Damask back to his _private rooms_ , so such a tame request being asked so... earnestly caught him a bit off guard. Perhaps he shouldn't be so quick to trust that, but with all the time they had spent together, all the conversations they'd had, it was almost too easy. And everything he had shared with the older man had only brought them closer together, every time. He wasn't sure he'd ever enjoyed being in someone else's company this much, just for its own sake.

And yes, Hego Damask may have been dangerous... But so was he. The young Palpatine smiled up at his companion, and as carefully as he could, as if asking for a dance, presented him his hand.

Damask took it.

The Muun's hands were quite a bit larger than his own, Damask's fingers more than twice the length of his. He had known this of course. It would have been hard to miss. He'd seen Damask's hands very close to his own, even brushed against them as he'd handed over the auridium coin to adorn his speeder. This was completely different. He couldn't decide whether the other man's grasp around his hand was warm or cold, but he liked it.

“I missed you.” Palpatine admitted quietly. “I am glad you came.”

“As am I.”

*

Of course the room where Damask was staying was able to seem regal and high class without being too fanciful. He could see out the window, but as high as they were he doubted anyone could see in from outside.

“Chandrila is a beautiful planet, is it not Magister?” He asked, turning only slightly away from his recent perch on the window's alcove. 

“I suppose so. It's not like Naboo is a wasteland either, though.” He seemed distracted.

“Perhaps. But it is still nice to have such a lovely change of scenery now and again.”

“If you think so staying here, you should visit Muunilinst, none of these worlds can match it, though not for lack of trying.” How arrogant! It was not an unattractive quality.

“You know its terribly difficult to get a chance to visit...” It wasn't as if he was fishing for an invitation (but perhaps that was exactly what he was doing), but Damask waved him off anyway.

“You know I'll take you.”

Palpatine bit back the automatic response that rose in his throat. _My father would never allow it..._ Magister Damask had made quite clear his feelings on that matter. Instead his only reply was a somewhat guarded half-smile he shot across the room with a knowing gaze out the side of his eyes.

“My dear Palpatine,” He was laying it on thick as he took a seat on the tall-backed velvety looking sofa. “Wouldn't you prefer to step away from the window and sit... A little bit closer?”

His heart certainly couldn't have actually been beating any faster, and any fluttering in his chest he may or may not have felt was doubtless a trick of the psyche. _A little bit closer he says_... Damask had more patience than he did, perhaps a symptom of his more advanced age, and it seemed clear he was not wary of using that to his advantage. It was much more enticing than a simple 'Let's fuck now' or the like...

He moved slowly over to sink down beside the Muun, folding his legs up onto the couch between them.

“You should take these off.” Damask said, gesturing to his ankle boots. “You'll track dirt onto the sofa, you know.” He would do no such thing, the roads that they had walked had been the cleanest he'd seen. Although he should have thought to bring a pair of slippers, he hadn't wanted to ruin the mood during their time together by back-tracking to his dormitory, but... He'd _known_ Damask was coming. He could have been better prepared. Damask was wearing slippers and they were silky and shiny and looked like they had never been worn a single--

“Hmm...” Damask continued, “I suppose I'll deal with it for you.” Long fingers slid up the dark leathery surface of one boot, quickly hooking into the top of the heel and slowly removing it. He could feel the agonizingly slow touch running along the inside of his foot through his thin stocking. He almost managed to bite back any sort of reaction, but despite his efforts, a soft gasp made its way past his lips. Damask pulled Palpatine's other boot into his lap and removed it in much the same way, though this time Palpatine was able to endure it without giving him the _satisfaction_.

Shouldn't he want to give Magister Damask his... satisfaction?

“They really are quite lovely,” Damask said, setting the pair of boots neatly down at the edge of the mat. 

“The boots?” They weren't really anything special.

Damask rocked his head, “Sure. Certainly.” His one hand had still not moved from Palpatine's ankle which he still held in his lap, but then his fingers did move, to slip under the hem of his leg and run up his calf. Another gasp, more loud than before, but it was mostly out of surprise that time. Though he shouldn't really be surprised should he? Wasn't that why he was here? 

If he moved his hand only a touch more he'd find the top of his stocking and feel his bare skin on skin contact. 

“Would you like me to loosen your robe for you too, Young Palpatine?” 

He honestly could not tell if he was being mocked and he did not like it. “I can do it.” He quickly did so without really thinking about it. There was no thought in his mind not to do so.

Damask's fingers moved higher to run across his bare knee, which he was prepared for this time. The older man pulled the top of his stocking away, but only slightly. “Do you want to keep these on? Or should I take them off?”

Almost subconsciously, he moved closer, just shy of actually sitting in the other man's lap. “Go ahead.” They'd only get dirty anyway, he supposed. Probably. The stockings went the same way as the boots.

Damask seemed to enjoy quite a bit touching the skin of his legs, somewhat curiously running his fingers along the soft dusting of hair he had on the sides of his shins before moving past his knees to touch his thighs which were more or less smooth and bare. His touch was not unpleasant. Anything but unpleasant, really. He felt himself heat up, despite the relative coolness of the Muun's hands. Damask could easily encircle even the tops of his thighs in his too large hands. If anything it made him more excited, his cock twitching under his robes as he became more aroused. Whether the touch itself or the thought of being _dominated_ \-- No. Not that. Never that. 

If anything he enjoyed the relative size gap. And that was it. That was all.

“Would you like to move this to the bed then?” Damask asked, shifting his legs apart somewhat, thumb running over his knee, one of which rested on either side of the Muun's waist. Oh.

“I can move myself.”

“I don't doubt that.” Since when was Damask hovering _over_ him? He hadn't even noticed he'd moved down on the sofa. Or been moved down, perhaps? “But is that really what you want?” A hand brushed even higher than it had before, fingers trailing on his inner thigh beneath his robes so very close to where he needed them to be. On what must have been instinct, Palpatine's hips moved forward, grinding into the air, trying desperately to find that ultimate contact. “You really want me to _stop_ touching you?”

“No!” He didn't even have to think about that one. “Don't stop, Magister, please...” He was not begging. He was demanding politely, that was all. “I need... I need...”

A hand moved away to stroke lightly, tenderly, almost lovingly at his hair, wiping away what was definitely not a tear from the corner of his eye. “Don't worry, my young human. I know exactly what you need.”

With an easy strength that Palpatine would have been surprised the old muun posessed, if he'd been in a different sort of state of mind that was, Damask took him to bed.

_Finally._

“Do you want me to touch you now?” Damask opened the rest of his now loosened robe, his head moving to the side with a mild sense of curiousity as he surveyed him.

“Isn't that what you were already doing?”

“I mean _here_ ” His hand easily engulfed his cock, and he seemed to have predicted the wild thrust towards him from the younger man, as he moved perfectly in tandem with him. He smiled as his young companion finally made some noise without attempting to hold back. Though if there was any kindness in his expression it was difficult to tell. “Yes, that does seem to be what you want. That's what you're here for, isn't it?”

“Magister... Please...” He couldn't pretend he wasn't begging at that point. Though he might have been able to salvage that he wasn't _quite_ whimpering. Maybe.

Damask sighed. “You're lucky I've come equipped then.” Quicker than he would have thought possible, or probable given how much Damask seemed to enjoy taking his time, he felt a long oiled up fingertip pressing against his hole. Obediently he lifted his hips to allow the intrusion. “Good boy.”

He wanted to protest the condescending praise, but he felt his breath hitch in his throat as Damask twisted his finger inside of him, already preparing to add another. 

“You haven't done this before.” Damask's eyes were dark, clouded. Again, it was difficult to tell if he was being mocked. “You were just waiting to become _mine_.”

“N-No...” It hadn't been a question but he protested anyway. It felt wrong as soon as he'd said it. Why did it feel like that was a lie?

“You're going to take my cock.” He said, almost conversationally. The same sort of way someone would tell you what shuttle you were going to catch to get to the city. A slight frown, or something akin to that, crossed his face. “You're going to like it too.” A matter of fact. “Will you beg me for it?”

Palpatine swallowed hard. “Please.” It was barely a whisper. He felt thoroughly stretched by that point. Ready enough at the very least. 

Damask's fingers slid out of him and he took his hand, guiding it into his own robes, which Palpatine realized rather belatedly, he was still wearing. He let his hand be pressed into Damask's groin, which was when he also belatedly realized he didn't know very much about Muun anatomy. 

It wasn't like it was something he'd needed to know before.

Damask seemed to understand the look on his face though, as he kept his hand on his own and began to move it, helping him to rub it against the small knob which seemed to be poking out from an oddly shaped fold of skin.

“My people evolved on an ice planet. You have to-- ah-- warm it up before--” Something shot out alongside what was presumably the tip of the Muun's cock and poked around at his hand. Again Damask spoke up at his befuddled look. “I thought you would be one to do research on this sort of thing, no? You must have been quite eager for this, hmm?”

Palpatine didn't bother protesting that. 

“That tendril wants to form a connection. To ensure warmth. Its really quite fascinating--”

Palpatine glared up at him. _Please, Magister. No science._

“...Cup a hand around it, it will help.”

Palpatine did as he was told. With a properly formed connection, or whatever the Magister was going on about, the folds of his skin seemed to pull back as his cock, much longer and more thick than the tendril in his hand, seemed to grow out from the skin itself.

Damask was right. It was quite fascinating. His legs moved on their own, impossibly farther apart. He wanted...

“This might hurt,” Damask observed idly as he hooked the human's legs around his lithe waist.

He was right about that too, but Palpatine could admit, at least within the privacy of his own mind, that only made it better.

“Ah, please! Fuck me, Magister!”

“Is that not what I'm doing?”

“M-more! _Please!_ ”

“Yes. That is the plan.”

If anything the nonchalance only riled him up further, and when he reached his climax it was infinitely better than anything he'd managed to do on his own.

“I'm going to finish inside of you. Unless you have a reason I shouldn't?”

“No... No reason. Please do it... I want... Want to feel it...” He was already beginning to come down, but some primal urge still remained to want... To please.

It was sticky and messy and horrible and he needed a spell in the refresher immediately. It was also absolutely worth it and he _loved_ it. Even if he didn't want to admit it. Until next time at least. Would there be a next time? That was a question he didn't want to ask.

Damask was already reading some sort of journal. It seemed to be about finance. 

“May I use the refresher?”

“Of course.” He replied. “And if you truly won't be missed, perhaps you'd like to stay a while longer. I would not mind attempting another engagement in sexual intercourse later, I do find it is quite an enjoyable activity, at least when you aren't too busy.”

What was he supposed to say to that? 

Certainly not no, at least.


	3. Luke/Anakin - No Sex, Incest, Alternate Ending, RotJ, Prisoner Luke kind of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke convinces Anakin to ditch the dark side. With like actual communication and not sex apparently ??? But maybe we'll add some of that in a later story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, there's no sex, but I'm pretty sure incest counts as kinky regardless?

“Lord Vader will see you now.” The door to his cell opened and closed in what seemed like the span of a single second for the Imperial, whoever he was, to say his piece.

Good. If he were any other Rebel, or Imperial for that matter, the line would strike nothing but fear into his heart. But he was past that now. He needed to see Anakin, despite whatever circumstances or consequences there were to that. 

As long as his resolve did not waver he had a chance. He could save Anakin Skywalker. How many nights had he lain awake wishing for just that? That he could have the chance even just to spend time with, to know, his father? Even though he had known it would be impossible.

Though it was never impossible, he thought, with a pang of emotion in his chest he did his best to suppress. He'd had enough time to process his emotions, and holding onto anger was not something a Jedi would do. And he had to be the perfect Jedi, if only just for now, if only just for this. There could be nothing more important than this.

“Luke.” The odd intonation from his mask sounded nothing like the holorecordings of the man from his youth. Ben had once called him more machine than man. But that made less sense the more he thought about it. His own hand had been replaced now, and he couldn't imagine even if all his limbs were replaced with prosthetics that he would ever cease being... Whoever he was. Anakin Skywalker... No matter that they had all given him up as lost, no matter the reasons they had to justify it, he would not. He couldn't. 

“Father.” They were too much alike now. They always had been, really. Even if he hadn't known it back then. “I've come to save you.”

“That won't be necessary.” 

“I know there's still good in you.”

“Your faith is misplaced.”

Luke sighed. Of course he knew it wouldn't be easy. But perhaps he'd at least have worn him down a little through their... Conversations since Bespin. 

“Father...” Luke said, his tone changing, looking up at Anakin through his lashes. Anakin said nothing in return. Luke easily slipped out of the cuffs he had been placed in, making sure to show his captor what he was doing before placing his now free hands on the older man's suit, just above his belt. “I can see how much you suffer. You can't hide from me.”

“Its too late, Luke.”

“Its never too late. You knew that once, didn't you?” He didn't want to touch anything on Anakin's suit without knowing how any of it worked, so he settled for rubbing his hands lightly against the smooth black carapace, far away from any of the seams of buttons that regulated force knew what.

“I serve the Emperor now.”

“Yet you said you would overthrow him. Was that just bravado?” Again, Anakin had no answer. “If I can't trust what you say about that, then why would I trust it when you say it's too late?”

“It is not only me you have to trust, Luke. Obi-Wan knows I am lost. He told you what you must do. Unless you'd rather join the dark side.”

Luke shook his head. A weak argument. “Clearly I can't trust Obi-Wan. He's done nothing but lie to me. But I won't join the dark side. I want to be with _you_ Father. But I want you in the light. That's what you want too. I know it. You can't hide from me, Father.” And, as if to accentuate his point, though possibly pressing his luck just a little, he leaned in to kiss the top of his father's belt. Just lightly. It was cold and hard like the rest of him.

“Luke...”

“I love you, Father.”

“If you knew all the things that I have done...”

He had some idea of that. Probably more than Anakin gave him credit for. What was it Yoda had said about the dark side? _Forever will it dominate your destiny_. “The things that you've done don't have to be the things you do now. You can change. Every day. You can choose to fight against the darkness. You can choose that every day. Believe me, I know. Its not just you. You know how much like you I am. Do you know how much I want to stay by your side? Even if I have to do terrible things too? Do you know how many times I've wanted to give up? How many times I have given up? But I can't give up on you. I'll fight every day for you. I'll choose you every day. If I can fight then so can you. Please. _Please_.”

A gloved hand ran through his hair. “Such emotion, such attachment. These are sure to lead a Jedi to the dark side. Don't you see how close you already are?”

Luke shook his head, but was silent. Anakin knew more than he did about falling to the dark side. He'd also know more about being a Jedi. And it was true. A Jedi would let go, would disconnect, would turn away from the darkness in very form it came in. He'd wanted to be the perfect Jedi, so he could save Anakin. But the perfect Jedi wouldn't save Anakin.

“I will never turn to the dark side. It's nearly destroyed you. My love for you can't lead me to the dark side, because my love for you won't let me sit by and watch you suffer in the darkness without fighting.”

“And what would you have me do?”

“Come away with me. I have no more unfinished business with the rebellion and I can't imagine you need any parting words for anyone here. Nobody will stop us. And maybe... When all this is over...” Maybe they could return someday, see Leia again and Han, and all the rest of them. He didn't doubt the victory of the rebellion in that moment, though he could feel Anakin did.

“Where will we go?”

“Wherever we want. Wherever will help us to keep fighting. We can go anywhere, everywhere. You've been so many places, I want... I want to know everything, I want to learn everything from you. Learn everything about you.”

“Learn how to be a Jedi? From a Sith Lord.”

“No, just...” He wanted his father. That was all. He tried to convey his thoughts through the force bond, without the words he couldn't find to say.

“Despite your growing powers, you make a terrible Jedi.” Perhaps that was true. “But Anakin Skywalker is dead.”

“He's not!” He tried to tamp down on his emotions, but then again, he was a terrible Jedi. “He's not. He's here. He's all I've ever wanted and I will never let him go!” He shot up into the surprised Sith Lord's arms and pressed a kiss to the grill of his mask. He felt silly doing something like that, staring into the shelled voids of the man's eyes. But he couldn't bring himself to care too much. “Anakin. Anakin. Please Anakin...”

Luke didn't know if he imagined it or if that laboured mechanical breathing actually picked up a little faster. “Just come away with me. Just make the choice. It could be just as easy as falling...” He didn't ask as a Jedi. Being a Jedi hadn't helped his father any.

“This could lead to a lot of trouble.”

“Its nothing we can't handle.”

“Anakin Skywalker wouldn't have hesitated.”

“What's changed?”

“Everything.” A pause. Fingers running down his cheek, thoughtful. “Lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was originally supposed to be sex, idk, I'm tired. This worked I guess, even if it is a bit preachy...


	4. Reylo - Eros and Psyche, Blindfold, Identity Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey doesn't know her husband's face or his true name but every night he comes to her nonetheless.

He only came in at night, after the sun went down, always in that damn mask so she couldn't even feel his face when he was over top of her. Still, she waited for him. No matter who he was, what he was, she was bound to him now, whether she liked it or not.

Against her better judgment, though she tried to deny it to herself, it seemed she liked it.

Rey settled into the bed that was now her own, sinking down into the folds of the comforters, resting on the pillows. She wore only the thin white slip of her nightgown, and, as he had requested, the strip of soft fabric that was tied over her eyes. She supposed he wanted to make sure she didn't get so much as a peek at what he looked like. Was he really so terrible? 

From what she had heard, the answer to that was yes. Though the more she knew of him, the less and less she believed it to be true.

The sun had already gone down, and she was settled back into the bed. She drew her knees up slightly. If he made her wait any longer she might just fall asleep.

But no. She heard his footsteps on the stone stairs leading to the tower. It made her breath hitch and her heart skip. Even though this was hardly the first time... Rey knew it was him, not only by the sound of his cold boots against the stone, but also by the fact that he was the only one who ever came here. No matter how desperate, no one came to Kylo Ren's castle but Kylo Ren himself.

The door swung open.

“Rey.” The voice was muffled by the mask, but she could hear it well enough. Barely masked desire, laced with something deeply meaningful. She wasn't yet used to hearing her name said in that manner, so naturally he tried to say it whenever he could. “I've missed you, Rey.”

“Well, I've missed you too, _Kylo_.” It was hard to put the same sort of emphasis on his name, given that she knew it wasn't really his true name, but despite their so-called marriage, she didn't know his real name.

She wasn't allowed to know anything about him, really. What kind of marriage was that?

His hand, gloved of course, touched the side of her leg and she gasped. She hadn't realized he'd gotten so close. Had he taken his boots off then?

His hand trailed up her thigh, pulling up her slip as it went, until the gloved tip of his thumb was running across the top of her thin hip. “You're all ready for me then, I presume?”

Kylo Ren shifted his hand to the inside of her thigh, gently moving it to the side. The bed dipped in front of her, and the way the fabric of his suit brushed against her thighs she had to assume he was kneeling between them. She was already breathing heavily, and she managed out a breathy “Yes,” just before another gloved thumb ran down her slit, eliciting another sharp gasp.

“Good.”

Since his words were still coming out from behind the mask, Rey knew it would be safe to reach out and touch his face. Which she did, cradling it as best as he could with the mask and her blindfold hindering her vision, as the man's (or monster's) thumb slipped inside of her.

“Hmm...” He continued. “You are ready.” His voice was even as ever, though she could almost think she caught a bit of a waver in it from time to time. Like now as he pulled away from her. She didn't complain though, she knew he wasn't far. She could hear the noise of him removing the pants of his suit, at least enough to free his cock. No matter how much he tried to hide from her, that was one part that would have to come out if they were to continue. Even if he was too reluctant for her to actually touch it, it seemed to her to be fairly like what she would imagine a human's to be like. Not a monster's at least. “Do you touch yourself when I'm not here? Here, I mean.” Again he slid a finger on her slit, upwards this time, catching her clit, flitting over it and pressing down to the side before flitting over again.

“Not... Not generally.” She managed to get out. It wasn't as if she was adverse to such things, but Kylo Ren rarely left her a night alone, so she rarely had the need. “It's easier to let you do it.”

“Oh it is, is it?” She heard his helmet lift off his head and she obediently moved her hands behind her back. She wasn't allowed to touch when he was like this.

His lips too were like a man's rather than a monster's, both when they caught her own in a kiss she longed to return and when they dropped between her thighs to bring her a pleasure she couldn't get enough of. As they did the latter she could feel his hair, or what she presumed must be his hair, brush against her thighs and stomach. It felt soft. She longed to run her fingers through it, take in its length, its style, its texture, even to look upon it and know its colour, but that was not allowed.

Kylo Ren hummed against her pleasure spot, making her toes curl, though she hadn't yet reached her peak. “Kylo...” She breathed out, wishing not for the first time she could say his true name. But as many times as she had asked, he would not tell her. 

“Rey...” He mumbled against her as he pulled up. He brought her thighs up against him as he lined the head of his cock up with her. She was more than happy to take him in, so close to her own pleasure. In no time he had her cumming, riding out the waves of her pleasure with every thrust he gave her until she was spent, clinging to him, completely sated. Only then did he allow himself to find his own release within her.

She kept her blindfold on as he fixed his suit back on and replaced his helmet.

“You don't need to sleep in that.” She said, hearing the helmet click back into place.

“I can't sleep without it.” Was his only reply.

“So I can assume tonight isn't the night when you tell me your true name?”

Silence for a long moment.

“Maybe tomorrow.”


End file.
